Trying to Move On

He has blue eyes and blonde hair.
She always dreamed of this, of the perfect moment,
of someone new slipping into her life like a sunkissed angel.
They hadn’t met before, just two twenty-somethings smiling over a shot of whiskey.
Paths crossed, air hot with drunken electricity.
She hadn’t pictured this exact moment, but had hoped it would be something like this.
His thick coat over her shoulders, Jack warm in their bellies.
Outside, the night sky was white with snow flurries.
Each flake fell and kissed her cheeks, then melted,
fleeting.